The Letter
by berryfuls
Summary: A letter. That's all she left him - a letter telling him where she is, that she needs him, and that she loves him. P/O, naturally.
1. chapter one

**I've had this typed for a while now, but I wanted to be a oneshot. Problem is, I don't think I can get the whole storyline in one chapter. :/ So I read it through (it's actually proofread for once! -happy dance-) and put it up. I really like it so far, I hope you guys do too!**

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July 23rd, 2010_

_Dear Peter,_

_By the time you find this, I expect we'll be gone. Boston isn't safe anymore and I need to get us out of here. Don't worry, we're going to be safe in our new "home." We'll meet up with you where you and I first met, that very first time. I've left plane tickets for you back in the lab, in our secret hiding place. I think you understand now why I became wildly obsessed with finding places only you and I know about. Take care, and be safe. Don't forget this – I love you._

_Yours truly,_

_Olivia and Ella._

Peter ran his fingers through his hair. The problem wouldn't be finding her, because he knew the exact place were they first met – in the lobby of a hotel in Baghdad. The problem would be getting those plane tickets. The letter was dated a whole week ago, and in that week several bombs have fell on Harvard campus. Including the building that held the lab. Thankfully, Walter had taken Gene out for a walk in a nearby field, and only suffered a mild concussion. And Astrid was with Peter, trying to find Olivia.

The letter was in the glove compartment of his car, a place he would never have thought to look for a woman who's five-six. Of course, though, that's exactly where he found her.

Plane tickets weren't a problem. He could be out of here and in Baghdad by seven tonight, the problem was Walter. The man had brain trauma from the concussion and was in no shape to leave alone with Astrid in a city even Olivia deemed unsafe. And she isn't one to run unless she believes she's already dead.

Walter would just have to come along and Astrid too. Gene had taken refuge in a petting zoo outside New York City. Peter pulled out his phone and dialed the familiar number of Astrid's cell. She picked up on the second ring. "Peter?"

"Hey, Astrid. I think I might have found Olivia. But getting to her involves a couple hours on a plane into a hostile country."

Olivia put Ella to bed, an easy smile on her face. Things were going well in Iraq. She could almost understand why Peter had lived here for so long. "Goodnight, sweetheart. I'm sure Peter will be here tomorrow, and then we can go someplace else."

Ella didn't say anything, because Aunt Liv had been promising that same thing for a week now and every day was quite Peter-less. Still, she found comfort in the assurances. If her aunt still had hope Peter was okay and would come, then Ella had to also.

Olivia closed the door to Ella's room and went out into the living room of the little suite. It had two bedrooms, a living room, a bathroom, and a tiny kitchenette, perfect for their needs. She still stuck to the couch, watching TV until the early hours of the morning when she couldn't hold her eyes open any longer.

Tonight seemed like it was going to be another one of those nights.

However, at about eleven, her cell phone started going off on the coffee table. She ignored the call, knowing very well that the rates would be awful to just answer it. She did notice it was from Peter, though, and her heart fluttered just a bit. He had to have found the letter. And in that letter, she had admitted how she really felt about him, something she had never had the chance to do. Did he feel the same way? Or had she just stuck herself out there without a lifeboat to carry her back?

Hopefully he would be here soon. Because every sixty seconds he wasn't here was another minute she suffered not being with him.

She tried picking up the hotel's phone and calling him back, but his phone went straight to voice mail.

"Sir, please turn off your cell phone."

Peter looked up at the flight attendant and flashed a smile. "Of course." He unwillingly held down the END button until the screen went dark.

The attendant went further up the aisle and Peter turned his attention to Walter, who was sitting between the window and Astrid. Peter had gotten the aisle seat, trapping the man in against the window so he could watch the water sparkle by.

Olivia hadn't answered, but her phone was definitely on. That meant something. She was probably just asleep, seeing that it had to be almost midnight there. He leaned his head back against the headrest, just wanting this plane ride to be over and to find Olivia. To be able to hold her and say he loved her too, but had never said anything because of FBI policies and just being scared she would reject him. Again.

So instead he pulled the letter out from his pocket and read it through for the millionth time. He kept reading over the line of "_Don't forget this – I love you_." It just seemed so unlikely that someone like her, so innocent and trusting, would ever even tolerate someone like him, let alone harbor feelings for. And yet there it is, written smoothly in her pretty script. It seemed like a perfect way to tell him – just when he was starting to believe she was dead, she gives him something like to go on, to keep reminding himself in the face of danger.

Astrid pretended like she didn't see the letter, but the little curve of her lips gave her away. Because she _hadn't_ known from the start…

(A few hours later)

They somehow managed to get out of the airport quickly, flagging down a taxi to take them to the shady hotel where he had first met Olivia. Ah, it was very bittersweet to be back. Each of the three got out with their bags and went inside. They got a room to go to put their stuff in.

Peter looked at himself in the mirror, ready to finally find Olivia again. His blue eyes were darkened with concern and just because the memories of Iraq made him seem so much more intense. He smoothed his shirt and hair, trying to look presentable to meet the one woman he loved more than the world. He tried faking a smile, but it looked like just that – a faked smile.

With a groan, he left the room and started wandering the halls, trying to figure out which one was Olivia's. Somewhat down his hall, the sound of Ella's voice stopped him. "Aunt Liv… how come we can't go back?"

His breath caught in his throat. Was he ready to hear her voice? It seemed like he wasn't going to get an answer, because she didn't reply. So before he could change his mind, his knuckles rapped on the door.

A short pause followed before footsteps came progressively closer to the door. He took a deep breath. Somehow, he was nervous and excited at the same time to see her face. He wanted her though. He wanted to know that everything was okay with her and Ella. Ever since Rachel died from cancer, we've pretty much adopted Ella. We were not about to let Greg take her away from us and Rachel's memory.

The door opened.

Olivia's face was questioning as if she was opening the door for anyone, then realizing, and finally joyous. "Peter," she whispered wondrously. She couldn't believe he was finally here.

A real smile crept across his face. "Hey, Liv. I had a little trouble with getting the plane tickets… I'll tell you later." He took a step closer to her and put a hand on her cheek like he had so, so long ago. But he didn't try and kiss her this time, not in front of Ella. Olivia closed her eyes and drank in his comfort. Somehow, he always found a way to get to her.

"Uncle Peter!" Ella shouted, jumping up from the couch and flinging herself at him. Olivia watched, amused, as he kneeled down and gave her a big hug. "Aunt Liv said that you'd be here everyday, and now you finally are!"

He ruffled her soft, fine hair but didn't say anything. Instead he sneaked a smile at Olivia, who just seemed to remember what was in her letter and blushed. The light pink of her cheeks was absolutely adorable. "Ella… how about you come down the hall with me and hang out with Astrid and Walter? I bet they can tell you another story."

Her eyes lit up. "Okay!"

After leaving Ella with Astrid as a willing babysitter, Olivia and Peter went downstairs and outside, sitting down on the wooden bench near the door. They didn't say anything for a couple minutes, just enjoying the other's company.

Finally, Peter spoke up. "I've really missed you, Liv. I mean, we all have been freaking out trying to find you and Ella, but I couldn't help but think I was the only one who cared that much about finding you." He laughed once. "As you can tell, I don't check my glove compartment often."

"Do you still have the letter?"

He smiled and slid it out of his pocket. The paper was worn by now, but he still handed it to her as if it was perfect. She read it through, blushing scarlet when she got to the last line. She stared at it, trying to think of something, anything, to say.

"I guess you never forgot."

"Are you kidding? I never stopped looking at that letter. It was the one thing that brought me to you and I hope to keep it with me forever." He leaned forward and looked at her intensely. "Because here's the thing, Olivia. You've brought us full circle. You brought us back to the place where we first met, where you took me away, and I've realized that it isn't just the setting. No matter what, I'm hopelessly in love with you."

She looked at him, an embarrassed half-smile pulling at the corner of her mouth. "You don't need to say that… I know that you just came here to just make me come home. Because the truth is I know you'd never love me, no matter what. Any ounce of emotion you've ever shown for me was either work-related or we denied it ever happened afterward. You don't need to lie to me, Peter…" She trailed off, blinking back the tears.

"No, no, no, no…" He grabbed her hands, holding each of her fingers as if they were delicate and fragile, as if she hadn't almost killed him with them. "Olivia, what you seem to think is not true. At all. I love you so freaking much, this past week has been pure torture to me, not knowing if you were okay or not." He put an arm around her waist and held her close. "I want you to be happy, 'Livia."

She leaned her head against his shoulder. "I don't think anyone has ever even tried to say that to me… they've always assumed that I am happy. But you're right. I'm not." She closed her eyes. "I should have known better to not to fall for another colleague."

A gentle chuckle escaped his mouth. "I should have known better than to make you fall for me. But the past is the past, and here we are now." He wanted to kiss her so much. He wanted to make her believe that he wasn't lying. But all that would do would make him seem more desperate, so he let the subject drop. "I had to get the plane tickets from some place else. Harvard was bombed two days after you left. I have a feeling that if you hadn't, we'd all be dead." She looked at him with huge eyes.

"Why Harvard? Why not DC, or New York City?"

"We have to guess they were looking for someone. That someone is most likely you, me, Walter, or Astrid. Luckily, it was on a Saturday and no one was in the building." She let out a sigh of relief. They sat like that for a long time, not speaking, just entangled in each other's personal space. After about ten minutes, he whispered, "Why did you believe Boston was no longer safe?"

"It wasn't safe for Ella anymore. I guess I should have specified that. After all the things I've seen, I knew it was time to take her out of Boston. I wanted to wait for you to help me get her to Jacksonville. I want to use the day care center as a place to stay for a while, at least until things start to settle down."

"The place where you were treated with Cortexiphan. You want to go back and bring your niece."

"I can't think of anything better."

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**Yeah, so see that little button down there? CLICK IT. Type something that is otherwise known as a review. Check mark the little box called "Add story to Story Alert." I will love you if you do! :)**

**-ibroughthomeababybumblebee**


	2. chapter two

**SPOILERS FOR OVER THERE PART 2.**

TURNBACKNOWIFYOUHAVENTSEENITTURNBACKNOWIFYOUHAVENTSEENITTURNBACKNOWIFYOUHAVENTSEENITTURNBACKNOWIFYOUHAVENTSEENITTURNBACKNOWIFYOUHAVENTSEENIT

**Okay, now that I've got that out of the way, how did you guys like the finale? AWESOME, right? I was very happy with the amount of feedback I got for chapter one, so here's chapter two! It's more of a filler and I couldn't think of anything else to put. Sorry it's so short.**

**This follows a timeline where the finale happens but the switch of Olivia and Altivia doesn't. So, Peter and our Olivia end up home together and everything that happened on the other side happened. But Altivia isn't there... (at least not yet - that MIGHT be an idea for a future chapter! -hint hint-)**

**Thanks to: ****Bonesbbfan513, ****zeusfluff, ****dazerla, ****Tiger Lily21, ****AGJones, ****Angels-heart1, ****Daniyell37, ****red-eye-tree-frog, ****musicislife77 and everyone else who read but didn't review/subscribe!**

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They didn't talk to each other as they packed up the rental car, barely looking at each other and just staying out of the other's way. Peter still disapproved of her plan. He remembered the way she had looked down in Jacksonville, the way she had morphed into someone he didn't know. And bringing Ella there, to the very place where Walter practically ruined her life, was probably the worst idea yet. But hey, who was he to interfere with her?

Olivia, on the other hand, just didn't want him confessing his undying love for her again.

She couldn't understand how he could possibly return any form of emotion for her. Yes, she remembered when, about two months ago, he had returned her kiss, but it just doesn't make sense. He was probably just trying to not hurt her feelings, trying to let her down as easily as he can. The worst part was that she wanted to believe it was true. But she knew, deep down, that it wasn't.

The others had noticed their awkward dispositions, but chose not to say anything. Instead, Walter started telling Ella interesting tidbits of fact, and Astrid went back up to the two rooms they had stayed in for the night to see if they had left anything. She was probably also stealing the shampoo and conditioner bottles, just because it would keep her away from Peter and Olivia longer.

"Did you know, Umbrella-"

"It's Ella, Walter. Just Ella," Olivia said in a monotone, noticing the way Peter winced when she spoke.

"Sorry. Did you know, Ella that the human pupil can dilate up to forty-five percent when they see something pleasant?" Walter's attention flicked to the man shoving a suitcase in the truck of the car. "Peter… your pupils are… never mind."

Olivia didn't miss the look of annoyance Peter threw at Walter, but looked away again when he glanced back at her eyes. His heart clenched with rejection, hating this cat and mouse game they had started playing. She just handed him the last bag, choosing to look at the distance between their fingers instead of his face. If she had, though, she would have seen all the heartbreak he was trying so hard to hide. The others couldn't see it, but Walter was right – she could always saw right through him.

Ella giggled nervously, the way little kids do after their parents just have a fight. "Did you know that the end of a shoelace is called an aglet?" She grinned, but the uneasiness shone in her eyes. "I learned that from my favorite TV show."

Walter chuckled, apparently oblivious to the atmosphere around him. "I did not know that! I'm impressed, but they say you learn something new every day." And they went on like that, trying to outdo the other with little facts.

Olivia just went back inside to find Astrid and return the keys to the front desk. But when she opened the door to the Bishops' room, –Astrid had stayed with Olivia and Ella that night- Astrid was sitting on the bed staring at a worn sheet of paper.

"He…" she trailed off, meeting Astrid's pain-filled eyes. "He threw it away?"

The junior agent didn't reply, just stood up and handed Olivia the letter. "I'm so, so sorry," she whispered, giving the other woman a gentle hug, and left. Olivia closed her eyes, holding back the tears that threatened to spill over and give her away. She folded it back into sixteenths and slipped it into her pocket. She knew what it said. She knew what she had written, but now wished she hadn't. It was meant to give him a reason to find her, but instead she gave him a reason to back away from her. All because of that letter.

Back downstairs, Peter was closing the truck door and helping Ella up into the tall SUV. Walter chose to sit beside her in the back, leaving a space by the other door for either Olivia or Astrid. Peter put the keys in the ignition and started the car. "I'll be right back," he told Walter and went back into the hotel.

None of it made sense, what she was doing. She tells him that she loves him in a letter she wanted him to find, but when he tries to tell her he feels the same way, she calls him a liar and refuses to talk to him. _She_ didn't make sense. But yet, he could perfectly understand her reasoning – she didn't want to get hurt again. He wanted to tell her so, so much that he would never hurt her. That he never could. But would she listen to him? No. He repeated the line of her letter in his head: _"Don't forget this – I love you."_

When he thought no one was looking, he reached into his pocket and pulled out Olivia's letter, reading back over it. "I won't forget, Olivia." He didn't mean to say it out loud, but the whisper came out just the same. "You're making it difficult, though."

He folded the letter back up and carefully put it into his wallet, where it would be safe. Nothing was going to hurt that heaven-sent piece of paper, Ella, or Olivia as long as he could protect all three.

Well, nothing that wanted to hurt them, anyway.


	3. chapter three

**I apologize in advance for the sappy letter. I couldn't resist :) I hope this clears up any confusion about the dual letter situation.**

**Thanks to: Everyone I mentioned in the last chapter, PsychVamp, greyslostwho, jenjen1616, blueberry3702, and Summer Memories (who added this to Story Alert while I was writing this chapter)**

**Enjoy!**

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Her letter wasn't the letter she thought it was. But she didn't know that, because she refused to look at it.

Peter kept glancing over at her, trying to beg her telepathically to open it, but the Cortexiphan must have made her un-mind-control-able. Something. She just sat in front of him on the plane and read her novel, some murder mystery by Stephen King. Because she _didn't_ solve murder mysteries for a living, she had to resort to reading about them. Sarcasm implied. Astrid was writing something – it wasn't a report or a letter (letters were getting quite common in the group) but it looked more like a book. Since when was Astrid an author?

Olivia was holding Ella's hand as the little girl stared with wide eyes out her window, watching the beautiful ocean below them. Everything was very tranquil, but yet it was tense at the same time, as if the air was electrically charged. Walter, however, was already out cold and Peter was thankful that the man wasn't awake to comment. All the way on the car ride here and in the airport, he had made innocent statements that had some deeper meaning. Like, "When someone is feeling a heightened emotion, the emotion can often leak into the atmosphere around them." They all knew that from Nick Lane, though. Except Ella, of course.

So maybe it was better that the only sounds the five of them made where snoring (Walter), the sound of pen on paper (Astrid), the light rush of a turning page (Olivia), and the occasional "Ooooh..." (Ella). Peter decided it was best to just sit there and do nothing, watching over his companions. Especially Olivia, whose red hair was starting to fade and the blonde coming back.

He was strangely happy about this. Hadn't he told the other Olivia that he liked her hair more over his Olivia's blonde? But here he was, glad she was returning to her former state. She was much more dangerous-looking with her hair. People just found it hard to take her seriously with hair the color of Coca-Cola cans. Of course, he would miss the bangs. They made her look more feminine with just the right amount of mystery while also highlighting her spring-green colored eyes. Another reason he didn't like the red – with her eyes, she looked too much like Christmas for his liking.

Olivia, on the other hand, wasn't really reading her book. She was just going through the motions, eyes flickering over each word, each line, each paragraph, but none of it registered in her head. She would probably remember what it said later, but that wasn't the point. The point was she was very, very uncomfortable with Peter sitting behind her. It made her self-conscious and overall uneasy. But still, she pretended, just to give her something to do.

For a normal person, it's hard to keep a train of thought while reading. For Olivia, she could carry on at least five different conversations with herself and still have brain power left to spare. She blamed it on the Cortexiphan. So while her eyes did their little dance over the novel in her hands, she thought about Peter and that letter.

That damn letter. She was right, had been all along – he didn't love her. If he did, he wouldn't have thrown away the letter sitting devilishly in her pocket. The letter, written in dentist-pen ink on elementary type lined paper, was somehow ruining her whole plan. She wanted to go to Iraq, wait for Peter, go to Jacksonville, and start a little family unit there. But that letter had declared that it had its own plans in motion, not caring that the momentum could knock all of them off their feet.

Page turn.

Peter was just a lying, two faced backstabber who only wanted to hurt her. He wanted her to suffer the same way he did when she didn't tell him the truth about him being from the other side. She understood that. But he didn't need to lie and say he loved her when he didn't just so she would let her guard back down. All he really needed to do was say that what had happened in his new home on the other side wasn't real. That he was just happy that someone was trying to find him or that he didn't want to hurt her feeling by not kissing her back.

Or simply that he had never felt anything in the first place.

The thought of that was almost too much to bear, but she made herself keep it in her head. Maybe, just maybe, she could keep herself from falling even more for him if she kept thinking he doesn't even like her back. All the sparks and electricity she had felt during their brief but heartfelt kiss, he didn't feel. Somehow… she couldn't believe that. He had to of, or he wouldn't have tried to find her.

Page turn.

The group decided that staying in a hotel that night was probably for the best and then they'd start fixing up the day care center tomorrow. Olivia, Astrid, and Ella had one room, while Peter and Walter were in the one next door.

After Ella showered and fell asleep, Astrid slipped in the bathroom to get ready before bed. Olivia sat on the floor by the window and pulled out her flashlight but left it off beside her. She may not need it.

She reached into her jeans pocket and pulled out the thin piece of paper that was dead set on ruining her life. For a few seconds, she just stared at it. The letter with ideas of its own. With its own destiny picked out – in the recycling bin. Still she couldn't bring herself to just throw it away. So she stared at it while it was folded up. But Astrid would be out soon so if she was going to read it, she had to right now.

The bright streetlights from the street below were enough light to read by. It was surprising how smoothly the corners slid away from its partner, leaving her staring at a letter that was definitely not hers.

_Dear Olivia,_

_I don't understand why you won't even listen to me when I say that I love you, because it's true. Whatever Walter or Astrid or Rachel or any of them told you about me while I was gone, I can assure you I can explain. I try to be a good person, I really do. But until I met you, I never really had a reason to be calm or nice or… good. You're my reason, Olivia. I'm telling you, I was in love with you from the day we met and I know you feel the same way. Soul-mates, sweetheart. That's the only explanation._

Her heart fluttered slightly at the word _sweetheart_. It reminded her of those difficult days when they had first met and sweetheart was an insult. How much she wished he would call her that now…

_When I was little, my mom had this life-lesson book on our bookshelf. We didn't look at it often, but there's one that has stayed with me all during my life: "When I'm old, I want to be able to look back on my life and know it was worth it, every piece. How my friends abandoned and then saved me. How I had my heart broken but had the strength to try to move on. How I still haven't been able to. And then I realize that you'll never get through life if you don't know how to heal a broken heart." It's true, every single word. Don't forget this – I love you._

_Yours truly,_

_Peter._


	4. chapter four

**A/N: I know, this is WAY overdue, and I'm so so so SO sorry about that. Life caught up to me and I really had no idea how I was going to write this. But I like the way it ended up, so here it is! **

**In case I end up taking wayy to long to upload again (as I probably will), follow me on Twitter - I'm berryfuls. If anything, you'll get a look into how addicted I am to Fringe. lol**

**As always, enjoy :)**

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She couldn't understand if she was happy about the letter or hurt about it.

She should be happy, right? After so long, Peter was finally opening up to her about how he felt and had even used her words to prove it. But somewhere, deep down, she was hurt about how he wouldn't let her believe something for once. Always in the past, he had made up her mind for her and this time it was no different. While it might not be different, it still stung.

As she read and reread the lines that had made her heart soar and ache at the same time, –namely the "Don't forget this – I love you" part- she knew it was too good to be true. So she folded it back up carefully and slid it into her suitcase where, hopefully, she would never have to look at it again. She climbed into bed beside Ella, pulling the sleeping seven-year-old closer gently. It was tranquil.

Too tranquil.

Astrid came out the bathroom and set up her bed on the couch, snuggling into the plush hotel blankets. She noticed Olivia's cool outward appearance but was too tired to ask. Plus, she knew that she would get it out of her eventually. It just wasn't now.

XxX

Next door, Walter was snoring. Loudly. Peter just ran his hands through his hair silently and stared at the ceiling. _Why me?_ he thought miserably. _Here I am, thirty years old, and I haven't even thought about doing all those things Walter fantasizes about me doing. The person I'm in love with probably didn't even find my letter. God, Olivia. Why won't you let this be easy for you and me? Why won't you accept that the only way I'll be able to sleep at night is knowing you're not angry with me?_

He sighed and turned to his side to stare at the harsh red glare of the alarm clock. Why do hotels even have alarm clocks? No one ever sets them. Why not just have normal digital clocks that won't wake you up? Really, what's the point in paying the extra money to have a feature no one's ever going to use? He knew these little musing questions were pointless and didn't really have a point – he was just rambling on as a distraction, something to take his mind off the girl next door. That's an interesting way to describe Olivia. The girl next door. Peter had grown up with a girl across the street (the one who had flowers in her hair) and had had a huge crush on her until he was fourteen. That was the year they moved away and Peter never saw her again. That girl wasn't just a girl next door. Olivia, however, was. She wasn't normal, but she wasn't exactly noticeable unless you were looking for her. Something he did on a regular basis, of course.

Walter started talking in his sleep, interrupting Peter's thoughts. "Y-yes… Of course, Gene… I'll get you the chocolate toothpaste…" Peter rolled his eyes but a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Very slowly, his "adopted" father was making his way back to reality. The concussion had made him even more insane, but not in Walter's goofy, adorable way. In a way that almost had him sent back to St. Claire's. Luckily, Broyles and Olivia pulled some strings to make sure Walter stayed with the people who could keep him sane. That was another thing Peter admired about Olivia – in crises, she always kept level-headed and used her manipulation skills to the best of her abilities.

Ooh, another thing. She knew how to manipulate people and get what she wants. It's a skill most girls learn when they're four and they _really _want that new Barbie doll, but it was even more extreme in Olivia's case. She probably could have gotten the doll _and_ the extra set of clothes. Peter just had to smile thinking about little 'Livia begging her daddy at the store.

And his thoughts went on like that, making a list of things he adored about the woman who he called his coworker and friend. The way she would never hurt him without reason (including that one time when he had been infected with a mind-altering virus); how her slender frame fit perfectly in his arms (something he had only experienced a couple times); her long, soft hair that fell on her shoulders so beautifully; her cool attitude that kept the cases going (despite how much he wanted to just make her calm down and chill out for a while); how she can down a whiskey bottle in a little under an hour; how she had let him see that fun, interesting side of her that only a handful of people had ever had the chance to meet; and last, but most importantly, the delicious taste of her lips on his in that tender, heartfelt moment back on the other side. His list was a lot longer than that, but those were just the main key points.

He considered writing this out, but decided that if she found it, the moment would be more awkward than romantic. Maybe in the future, when things are better between them and they weren't a thousand miles away from home. Unless this is their home now.

Looking past the clock and out the window, he saw the lights of the city and the ocean beyond. Somehow, he could get used to calling this place home.

XxX

The lazy rising sun woke her up calmly, slanting through the blinds and casting a bright spotlight on her face. It's the most enjoyable way to wake up, with the sun promising a bright and happy day. If only that were the case.

The thought of the letter in the suitcase gnawed at her, every word becoming a mantra in her head. How he had used her very own words, to make her see the truth. She wanted to know it was the truth. That he did love her, or that he didn't just make up every detail. He may be a con-man, but he has a heart. His heart is more whole than one might assume – to be able to leave so many people, so many lifestyles behind him with just one step… it had to take a toll. But still, Peter Bishop could care and love if he took the time to settle down.

Ella had gotten up already and Olivia could hear Astrid doing Ella's hair in the bathroom. Their muffled voices and giggles eased her frayed nerves and anxiety, the feeling of family and belonging taking over. She just laid there and enjoyed the comfort of friends, family, and the feeling of complete peace and serenity.

That is until someone knocked at the door with a familiar beat and Olivia froze.

Peter.


	5. chapter five

**A/N: This is, as usual, wayyy overdue but I also had exams the last few weeks and a couple end-of-the-year projects, so... Yeah. I really have nothing to say so ENJOY!**

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Olivia got up slowly, putting both feet on the floor beside her bed carefully. She needed to steady herself. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she started forward. Each step took her nearer to the door, nearer to the door, until she was standing in front of it. For a second she wondered how she even got there, but then it was too late. She was looking through the peephole and saw his face.

He didn't sleep much last night. There are deep, haunted shadows under his eyes and a yawn stretched his jaws open. At the same time though, he looked wide-awake, alertness present in every detail of his face. He was staring at the door impatiently, waiting for somebody, anybody to go ahead and open it already. His arms were folded as usual and he was tapping his fingers against his arm. One-two-three-four. His thumb didn't move.

She pulled her face away from the door. Now or never. Her hand found the knob and twisted it smoothly. The door moved away from the frame almost in slow-motion, back towards the wall. There was nothing expect space and the heavy tension between them now.

He smiled gently. It eased some of the uneasiness around them, but it was still there. He reached out hesitantly and curled his fingers around her wrist, pulling her out into the hallway with him. She closed the door behind her. They didn't speak as it clicked back, but he did let his fingers slide down her arm until they enfolded hers.

"I found your letter," she whispered at last. She didn't know why she was whispering. There was just something private about the moment that made her want to stay quiet.

He smiled again, this time more of a cocky grin than an easy twitch of the lips. "Did you?" His voice was arrogant but she picked up the subtle fear there too. He was afraid about what she would finally say. To tell the truth, she was scared about what she was going to say too, but there was no going back now. "What did you think? Too heartfelt?" He took a step closer to her, just barely on the inside of her personal space. "I was told that I am the best letter writer ever. Of course that was by my fifth grade teacher…" He trailed his babbling off and just looked into her eyes. She hated personal confrontations.

She closed her eyes and let herself lean against him. "Peter… What are we doing? Creating a mess that we might not be able to get ourselves out of?" He sighed and put his arms around her. He didn't want it to come to this, but in the end, it would be the only way.

"Yes, but not all messes are ugly. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. I happen to find our… situation rather beautiful." A shy shiver ran down her spine as he trailed his fingers along the exposed skin of her back where the tank top didn't cover. "You can't regret every step of our way to here. I think that would sad. And I don't want you to be sad." She leaned back to look him in the eyes. He smiled but it didn't reach his eyes, not completely. Her fingertips brushed his unshaven cheek. His stubble prickled her sensitive skin and set every nerve on fire.

She smiled back, only hers lit up her entire face, if only softly. "I don't want you to be sad either." She hesitated, looking away embarrassed. "You know, no one else has ever had the same effect on me like you. You're special, Peter…" Her voice faded into the easy silence that they were used to by now.

"I think you should know this... I actually like your hair the way it was before. Blond, I mean. I do like the bangs though."

"Good to know you pay that much attention to my hair."

He grinned and this time it stayed on his face. "You have no idea, Dunham. No idea."

Things were subtle after that, mostly stolen moments that only resulted in confessions of their pasts. When they first realized they loved each other: for her, it was back when he showed interest in her now deceased sister; for him, it was shortly after that when he realized how vulnerable she could be when she wanted to be strong. How they had secretly found solace in the other when Rachel died. The way they had slowly started to see themselves as Ella's parents. Every little detail of their lives, including the pasts they reluctantly revealed in private.

At the same time, the day care center that she grew up in was slowly becoming more and more normal before their eyes. Each day of hard work and effort was starting to pay off. They kept some of the rooms the way they were before – such as the room she burnt to a crisp, or the room with all the things from the other side and the chart with the Cortexiphan kids. They made minor changes to other rooms, but for the most part everything was different. They created five "bedrooms," although one of them wasn't used.

Olivia snuck into Peter's room the first night they were there and admitted the fear she still had of the place. He let her crawl under the sheets beside him and held her tenderly until they both fell asleep under the stars that shone through the window.

They had to deal with the teasing glances and awkward silences the next day –nothing had happened, of course, but try explaining _that_ to Walter- but it was completely worth being able to enjoy the other's presence a little longer.

One night, about five months after everything letter-related, while the five were enjoying a cookout around back, Peter took Olivia a little bit away from the rest of the group.

"How are you feeling?" he asked in a whisper, one hand resting comfortingly on her waist.

She smiled, confused. "I'm fine, Peter. Why wouldn't I be? Here we are tonight, with our family still in one piece after this long." They shared a smile at the word "family" because that's what they were now. A very dysfunction and strange family. She noticed the way his other hand snuck into the pocket of his peacoat but didn't think anything of it.

His smile became a little more mysterious and he pulled her a little closer to him. "Well then," he whispered so quietly she had to strain to hear him. "I guess I have just one more thing to ask you." She cocked her head, the realization not hitting her yet. He knelt down and pulled out a little blue box. He opened it to reveal the single-diamond ring and asked, a little louder, "Will you marry me, Olivia Dunham?"

She knelt down too, the smile on her face joyous and satisfied. "Yes, of course! Do you even have to ask?" She kept her voice down too so the others wouldn't hear but knew they knew what was happening.

And she kissed him, ready to begin to begin their life together, officially a big happy family.

* * *

**That's all, folks! I HOPE YOU LIKED ITT! :) Review the last chapter please-oh-please?**

**Yours Truly, ibroughthomeababybumblebee (couldn't resist ending this like a letter)**


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